“Knock, knock,” says Zack cheerfully. He’s carrying a small box of cookies from the cafeteria downstairs, a wide and hopeful grin on his face. He sets the box down before squatting down to rest his chin on your desk, peering up at you. “Thought you could use something sweet,” he says like he hasn’t spent the last ten minutes rehearsing that line.

The thankful smile you give him causes his chest to tighten up in a weird way. He tells himself it’s just friendship, that he’s just looking out for you after everything you’ve been through—the breakup, the whispers around the office, your reputation being dragged through the mud—but the truth has been sneaking up on him with every excuse to check on you. He wonders how much longer he can pretend he doesn’t want you.